


Begin Again

by 852_Prospect_Archivist



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Drama, Episode Related: sentineltoo, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-11 04:17:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/793879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/852_Prospect_Archivist/pseuds/852_Prospect_Archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>My S2P2 rewrite. I choose to believe the episode itself never happened.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Begin Again

## Begin Again

by Texas Ranger

* * *

"This can't be happening. This can't be happening. This can't be happening." 

Jim Ellison chanted the phrase as a talisman against the tragedy taking place at his feet, as if he could wake himself from the nightmare being played out in front of him.   
Blair Sandburg, Jim's Guide and best friend, lay cold and still under the hands of the paramedics who were trying desperately to revive him, a victim of one woman's greed and Jim's own insecurity. The paramedics looked at each other, and an unspoken message passed between them. 

"I'm sorry," one said softly. 

Jim stared at him incredulously. "Sorry?" he snapped. "What do you mean you're sorry?" He broke free of Simon's hold and knelt next to his Guide to continue the CPR that would force life into Blair's body. He felt Simon's hands trying to pull him away and shook them off savagely. Jim compressed Blair's chest and breathed into his mouth as he'd been taught in the Army years ago. "Come on, Blair!" he begged. The precious heart that had been Jim's salvation remained silent, the restless body motionless, the beloved voice hushed forever. Still, Jim persevered, frantic to save the man he loved. "Jim..." Simon laid a hand on his detective's shoulder. "He's gone," he said quietly. "Let him go."   
Only then did Jim allow himself to hear the stillness where Blair's heartbeat should be. He let Simon pull him to his feet and hold him while tears flowed down his face unchecked. Once, before Blair, Jim would have died before showing grief in front of others, but now it didn't matter. His life was gone, expelled with Blair's last breath, and Jim didn't care what his colleagues thought.   
*Hold on, Blair* Jim thought numbly *I'll be with you soon. Wait for me, Chief*   
The sound was so soft, so hesitant, that it took Jim a moment to identify it.   
*thump...thumpthump...thump* 

Blair's heart was trying to beat! 

Jim struggled against the arms holding him. They didn't understand. They couldn't hear. "No!" Jim shouted furiously. "He's alive! He's alive!" With adrenaline-powered strength, Jim flung the big captain several feet across the lawn and scooped Blair into his arms. He could hear Blair's heartbeat, but the anthropologist wasn't breathing. Jim heard the water sloshing around in Blair's lungs, and knew he couldn't breathe through it all. Desperate, Jim rolled Blair onto his side and pounded on his back. "Breathe, Chief!" he pleaded to his unconscious partner. "Come on, Blair, breathe, dammit! Don't leave me alone, I need you!"   
Blair coughed weakly, and a river of water gushed out of his mouth. Jim heard the respirations start-shallow and congested, but he was breathing again. Blair began to hiccup, and Jim gently patted his back while he threw up water and lunch onto himself, the grass and Jim. Tears of gratitude and relief ran down Jim's cheeks as he pulled Blair's unresisting body into his lap and rocked him.   
"I love you, Blair," he said, stroking wet curls off his Guide's forehead. "I love you so much, baby. Don't ever leave me again." "Sir," the medic touched his shoulder, "we should get him to the hospital." 

Jim nodded, and waved away the offers of help. Instead, he lifted Blair carefully and carried him to the ambulance himself. Only when his partner was secured and the vehicle pulled away did Jim finally look around. Brown and Rafe were holding each other for support, crying and laughing at the same time, identical expressions of disbelief on their faces. Megan stood alone, trembling and staring down at where Blair had been lying.   
Simon alone seemed composed, his handsome face almost serene. But when Jim approached, he could see the tears coursing down the captain's face, silent and dignified like the man himself. "We almost lost him, Jim," Simon whispered. "It was so close. I don't know if I..." he left the thought unfinished. "Let's go see how he's doing."   
Abruptly, Simon turned and started toward his car. \--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------" 

He was dead," the stunned medic was saying to the emergency room doctor. "No pulse, no breath, zip, so we gave up. Then this guy, I guess he's a roommate or whatever, yells that he's alive and starts in again, begging this kid to breathe, and bang, he does." "Fucking incredible," the other medic commented. 

"I've seen it before," the doctor said. "This kid must have something to live for-nurse, can we get a blood pressure, please-they always do when this kind of thing happens." Jim monitored the conversation from the waiting room where he sat with his friends from Major Crimes, waiting for the doctor to finish examining their friend. He was tense in spite of the reassuring sound of Blair's heart ringing strong and regular from behind the closed doors of the ER; Blair would live, but would he be Blair? No one was sure how long the anthropologist had been without oxygen to his brain, and that left open possibilities Jim was unwilling to ponder. Having heard footsteps, he was already on his feet when the doctor came out. "Detective Ellison?"   
"I'm Jim Ellison. How is he?" Jim was aware of the rest of the detectives forming a half-circle around the doctor, shifting anxiously. "I'm Dr. Garcia." The small Hispanic man shook Jim's hand, and continued. "You're Mr. Sandburg's next of kin?" Jim nodded nervously. "Yeah, I have his power of attourney. Why?" 

Dr. Garcia held up his hand and smiled. "Just a standard question, detective. Mr. Sandburg is okay for now. He's still unconscious, and we won't know everything until he wakes up, but his reflexes look normal, and he responds to pain, so I'd say his physical prognosis is good." The others grinned and slapped backs, but Jim and Simon remained sober. "What about mentally?" Simon asked. The doctor hesitated. "That I don't know. He wasn't breathing when you found him, and it took so long to get his heart and lungs going...I just don't know. We'll have to wait til he regains consciousness. Meanwhile, they'll be taking him up to ICU on level three in a few minutes, if you want to follow."   
Jim nodded, and started toward the elevators. Simon followed, but motioned the others away. "They won't let us all up there." "But Simon-" Megan protested. 

"Go home," he ordered. "We'll call the minute Blair wakes up." 

Jim and Simon arrived in the room ahead of Blair and waited until the young observer arrived on a gurney and was transferred to the bed. Vitals were taken, blood was drawn, and everything was charted, and Jim slumped down in a chair to wait out the night with his unconscious roommate. 

"Mr. Ellison, I'm afraid you can't stay here," a tall, solid-looking nurse told him. "This is an ICU, and we don't allow sleepovers. If you want to wait down the hall-"   
"No, I don't," Jim retorted. "Blair is my partner, and-" 

Clearly, rules were rules with this big babe, and Simon could see that Jim was getting nowhere, so he stood up and pulled out his badge. "Simon Banks, captain, Cascade PD," he announced in his best authoritarian rumble. "Mr. Sandburg is under protective custody, as the woman who made the attempt on his life is still at large. I've assigned Detective Ellison sentry duty while Mr. Sandburg is here." The nurse frowned. "Protective custody? I haven't heard anything about it."   
"You just did." Simon locked eyes with her. 

The nurse sighed. "Fine, but he interferes with our care of Mr. Sandburg, he's gone." She made a 'you're outta there' motion with her thumb, and stalked out of the room.   
"Thanks, Simon," Jim aid gratefully. 

Simon patted his shoulder. "No problem. You stay with Blair, and call me as soon as anything happens, hear?" Jim nodded, and pulled his chair as close to Blair's bed as he could. Simon hesitated at the door. "Jim...did you mean what you said?" "When?" 

"Out there by the fountain," Simon said awkwardly. "About loving Blair." 

Jim looked at his friend evenly. "Yeah, Simon, I did." 

Simon smiled for the first time that day. "Good. Keep loving him. He'll need it. But hear me," he warned. "If you hurt him I'll kick your big ass into next week."   
Jim smiled back. "I hear you, sir." 

Simon left, and Jim took Blair's hand. The anthropologist was pale, and an oxygen mask covered the lower half of his face, but otherwise, he looked just like he did when Jim sometimes crept into his room to watch him sleep: sweet, peaceful, and above all, beautiful. Jim ran one finger over Blair's face, tracing the soft skin covering high cheekbones, and imagined the finger continuing to caress the perky upturned nose and generous lips hidden by the mask. "I love you, Blair Sandburg," he whispered.   
"Detective Ellison?" 

Jim swung around, startled. He'd been so focused on Blair that he hadn't heard the nurse come in. "Yes?" "There's a call for you at the front desk. It's your captain." The nurse motioned. "Says it's urgent."   
"Be right there." Jim had turned off his cell phone when he entered the hospital. Simon wouldn't call him from Blair's side unless it was urgent, so he hurried to take it.   
"Simon, what's up?" Jim asked. 

"Bad news, Jim," Simon answered gravely. "Alex just called for you. Said for you to turn on your cell phone or she releases the VX gas. She'll only deal with you, and she sounds serious. I wouldn't pull you away from Blair, but..."   
"I know, Simon." Jim rubbed his forehead. "I'll get outside hospital grounds and find out what she wants." Jim hung up. He knew what she wanted: another shot at wiping out her rival Sentinel. *She'll get it* he thought. 

Jim went back to Blair's room and picked up his hand again. "I have to go, but I'll be back as soon as I can." He brought the still hand to his lips and gently kissed the palm. "One way or another, it ends tonight. She'll never hurt you again." --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

Jim turned on his phone and sat back in his truck. He hadn't waited ten minutes before the call came. "Ellison," he barked. "Hello, Jim," Alex Barnes purred. "Have you made the arrangements to bury your Guide yet? Let me know where I can send the flowers." She laughed. "I may even show up in person, just to make sure poor little Blair is laid to rest."   
Jim choked down his anger. "What the fuck do you want, Alex?" 

"You, of course," she replied. 

"Where and when?" Jim asked tightly, refusing to play her verbal game. 

"No time like the present, and how about the old clothing factory on Sixth and Wilson? Oh, and Jim? Come alone. I so much as smell one of your buddies and Cascade becomes a very unpleasant place." She closed the connection.   
Jim started the truck and headed for the old factory. Alex had won once, but not again, not when Blair's life was at stake. Blair's near-drowning was bound to make the paper tomorrow, and when it did, she would come after him again. If she was still alive. 

He stopped at the loft on his way, hoping the one piece of machinery would give him an ace in the hole. Jim pulled up to the building in the old industrial section without stealth. What was the point, when Alex had probably heard him coming for blocks? He walked in the loading dock and scanned for her. "Here I am, you bitch," he called. "Let's get it over with." Alex called out of the gloom, "You have no sense of the dramatic, do you, Jim? We're supposed to do this like an Arnold Schwartzenegger movie and trade witty insults first." "Enough bullshit," Jim snapped. "What do you want?" He circled the room, honing in on her voice and heartbeat. "I can't leave you alive." She snorted. "That's exactly what I said to Blair a few hours ago. And look what happened to him." The female Sentinel tsked regretfully, mocking Jim. "Poor Blair. He was so sweet and naive, so help-your-fellow-man. I hated to kill him." She paused. "I suppose I could've kept him as a harem boy, chained up in my cellar, but-oh, I'm sorry, Jimbo. That's your poor dead Guide I'm talking about, isn't it? The man who trusted you with his life." She let that sink in. "You failed him, Jim," her voice dripped poisonous sympathy. "He was living in his office when I found him. Sleeping on the floor like an unwanted puppy. How do you think he felt, Jim?" she asked relentlessly. "His Sentinel didn't want him. Poor, deserted Blair. You left him to die all alone." 

Jim's chest ached as Alex's words pelted him. She was right; Jim had deserted Blair when he should have protected him. A Sentinel's first duty is to his Guide, and Jim had violated that trust. But it was up to Blair to forgive him or not. Jim's job right now was to stop Alex. He edged closer.   
"Do you want to know what happened?" she continued viciously. "How I got him? It wasn't hard, since he wasn't expecting me. I just walked right in and took him at gunpoint. Shooting him would've been too noisy, but fortunately I'd seen that pretty fountain on my way in, so I took him out there. You'd've been proud of your Guide, Jim. I've seen men twice his size piss their pants when death is near, but not Blair. He didn't show an ounce of fear, except for the widening of those blue eyes." She paused again for effect. "Do you remember how huge and blue Blair's eyes were? His best feature, I'd say. Too bad they'll never open again. But as I was saying, I took him out to the fountain and knocked him unconscious from behind, then tossed him face-down into the water. I could hear his lungs filling with water as I walked away, Jim. It's a gruesome sound." Alex sighed. "Jim, Jim, Jim, what a horrible, lonely way to die. I can't think of anything worse."   
"Try this, bitch." Jim gave a shrill blast from the dog whistle he'd taken from the loft. Alex wailed and clapped her hands to her head Her gun fell to the ground."How-?" Alex choked as Jim's grip tightened on her. Jim removed two small appliances from his ears.. "White noise generator, a little trick Blair taught me." He tightened his grip on her throat. "He also taught me how to piggyback my hearing through my eyesight. I'm a little older and a lot wiser, lady." But Alex wasn't finished. She brought her knee up into Jim's groin, doubling him over. She knocked him off and scrambled for her gun. Through a haze of pain, Jim groped until his hand connected with her ankle and he pulled her back. Alex kicked and twisted, but Jim was stronger. He felt the wild blows of her fists on his face, but Jim was beyond caring about a few bruises. He straddled her, pinning her effectively to the ground with his body. He let go to reach for his handcuffs, and that's when Alex slid the knife from her belt. She swung it in a deadly arc toward Jim's neck, intending to cut the carotid, but Jim saw the flash in time.   
Jim grabbed her arm and tried to force her to drop the weapon, but Alex struggled with surprising strength. Finally, Jim clamped her in a joint lock and twisted. Her wrist snapped under his hands, and the knife dropped. 

Alex glared up at him insanely, hate shooting from her eyes like vengeful fire. "Go ahead, Ellison," she spat. "Arrest me. Send me to prison. They can't hold me, not with my Sentinel abilities. You can't warn them, either, not without giving yourself away." She threw back her head and laughed. "You're fucked, big man. You'll always be looking over your shoulder, and one day I'll be there."   
Jim stared down at her, unnerved. She was right. He wasn't afraid for himself, but what about Blair? Jim would never push him away again, but neither could he always be there. Alex Barnes wasn't the usual criminal, and she would be back. Hatred flared in Jim at the choice she was forcing him to make.   
His hands tightened on her throat. 

"Kill me," she offered. "I still win. I killed your Guide, murdered him in cold blood. How long do you think you'll last without him?" "Wrong," Jim hissed. "Blair's alive. You lose. And I plan to last a very long time."   
He took a split second to enjoy the look of astonishment on her face before he snapped her neck with a small motion, coldly, unemotionally, the way he was taught in Special Forces. Jim took out his cell phone and dialled Simon. "It's Ellison," he said when Simon answered. "I'm at the old clothing factory on Sixth and Wilson. Alex is dead. I'm going looking for the VX." He closed the line before his boss could answer.   
The lights in the old building didn't work, but that was no problem for Jim. He turned up his senses and was hit by the smell of death. Gagging slightly, he followed it to its source. A man, presumably Alex's partner, lay dead on the floor of an old office, and a canister sat on the desk. The VX, Jim presumed.   
Simon was first in the building, and he headed for Jim. "You alright?" he asked, examining his detective. "Looks like she got you good." Jim ran a hand down his face and wiped blood onto his jeans. "No big deal." He gave Simon a rundown, glossing over the part where he'd killed Alex to make it sound more legal. Simon stared at him for a long time. Finally, he nodded. "Okay, Jim. I need a written statement from you tomorrow, and you know there's going to be a routine inquiry, but I think you're okay on this one." Simon clapped him on the shoulder. "Good job." Jim nodded impatiently. "Thanks, Simon, but-" 

"Yeah, yeah, go back to Blair." 

Jim smiled wanly, and took off for the hospital. 

* * *

Back in Blair's room, Jim sat down and picked up his Guide's hand. "I'm back, Chief," he said softly.   
Blair stirred. "I was wondering where you were." 

Jim jumped up. "Blair! You're awake!" 

Blair nodded weakly. "Have been. They came in poking prodding, sticking, but they won't tell me what happened. Am I sick, Jim? I don't feel too bad, except my throat is sore as hell. What happened?" Jim swallowed. "You don't remember Alex coming to your office?" 

"Alex who?" Blair asked. 

"Alex Barnes, the other...what do you remember, Blair?" 

Blair frowned, thinking. "Um, I remember grading papers while we watched 'Jurassic Park' and ate caramel corn. After that...nothing." That had been three days ago, before Jim had kicked Blair out of the loft. Jim was flooded with guilt at the memory of the way he'd acted toward his Guide and best friend. He knew he'd have to remind Blair sooner or later, if he didn't remember on his own, but now was not the time. 

"What happened, Jim?" Blair demanded again. 

Jim squeezed his hand. "Not now, Chief. You're still not strong enough. Just rest now."   
But Blair wouldn't be put off. "Dammit, don't give me that! I have a right to know what's going on, man!" He struggled to sit up. "Okay," Jim relented, easing Blair back onto the bed. He kept a gentle hand on the smaller man's shoulder and told him,"You almost drowned, Chief. In fact," Jim's voice hoarsened with emotion at the memory, "you were gone for awhile. I thought...and then I heard your heart trying to beat."   
"Oh, man," Blair commented. He was less upset than his Sentinel, so he patted Jim's arm. "It's okay, Jim. I didn't drown. I'm here." Jim took a shaky breath and let it out, comforted by the warm feel of his Guide's hand. "I should go now. You need some sleep." Blair clutched his arm. "Stay with me. I'm nervous. I almost remember, then it's gone. I don't want to be alone tonight." Jim smiled down at him. "You've got it, Chief. Now, close your eyes." 

Blair did as he was told, but muttered, "I'll expect some answers tomorrow." 

Jim stood watch as Blair fell asleep. He had just started to doze off when the nurse came in to check the IV. "How is he?" Jim asked. "The doctor was in," she replied, fiddling with the bags on the pole. "Mr. Sandburg is completely undamaged, except for a sore throat where they intubated him in the ER. He's very lucky you were there to continue **CPR."**  
Jim ignored the praise. "Then why the memory loss? He can't remember what happened, or even the events of the last three days." The nurse made a notation in Blair's chart. "Partial amnesia's fairly common in a trauma cases, especially where oxygen has been interrupted." 

Jim frowned. "Amnesia? But he still knows who he is, who I am-" 

The nurse laughed. "You've been watching too many soaps, detective. Global amnesia is very rare. Real amnesia is usually like Mr. Sandburg's: specific memories or short periods of time are lost rather than an entire lifetime. He'll probably regain the lost memories soon. If not," she shrugged, "who wants to remember drowning, anyway?" She went back to her other patients, and Jim was left alone in the silent room. Alex's words came back with the force of a blow. Poor, deserted Blair...his Sentinel didn't want him...you left him to die all alone...you failed him...how do you think he felt... How do you think he felt? 

Jim knew how Blair had felt. He had seen the hurt and rejection in the anthropologist's eyes when Jim had thrown him out of his home, closed him off from his life. Blair had felt terrible, and Jim was the cause. 

*Chief, I'm so sorry* Jim thought now as he watched his partner sleep. *I love you, and I never meant to hurt you. I'll make you understand somehow.*   
He fell asleep with his head on Blair's bed, full of guilt and shame. 

* * *

Jim woke at the feeling of violent movement. He sprang to his feet, senses alert, and saw that Blair was thrashing around on the bed in the throes of a nightmare.   
Jim reached down and shook his Guide gently. "Blair? Chief? Wake up. It's okay."   
Blair's eyes flew open, and he gasped for breath, panicked. "Jim, help me! I can't breathe, Jim! I can't breathe!" His breath came faster and faster.   
Unmindful of the nurses running into the room, Jim sat on the bed and lifted Blair into his lap, rocking and reassuring him quietly. "You can breathe, Chief," he soothed. "You had a bad dream, but you're okay now. I'm here. Just breathe in slowly and let it out. That's it." Blair calmed down at the sound of Jim's voice. He leaned against the big cop and willed his heart to stop pounding. "I'm okay now," he said finally, but made no move to get off Jim's lap. "Just don't let them sedate me."   
Jim waved the nurse away. "I'll take care of him," he told her, and she left reluctantly. "What did you dream, Blair? Want to talk about it?" 

Blair nodded against his chest. "I remember being thrown in the water, trying get out, but I couldn't move. My head hurt, and I couldn't breathe." 

"Shhhh, Blair, it's over," Jim whispered. "And I remember someone hitting me, then...voices...you, Simon, someone I don't know...pressure on my chest..." he looked up at Jim. "Did you give me CPR?" 

Jim nodded. 

"I remember a woman, but I can't see her face," Blair went on. "I think I should know her, but-" he stopped. "Is she the one who drowned me?" 

"Yes." Jim kissed Blair's forehead lightly. "Do you remember anything else?"   
"No...wait, yes. I remember..." Blair blushed. "No, forget it. It must've been a dream."   
"What?" Jim pressed. 

"I thought I heard you say...never mind." Blair turned away. 

Jim thought he knew what Blair was getting at, and wanted to hear him say it. "Go on."   
"That you love me" Blair finished reluctantly. He laughed self-consciously. "Isn't that dumb?"   
Jim tilted his face up and looked into his eyes. "Not unless I'm dumb for saying it."   
Blair's eyes widened, then he shrugged. "Well, you thought I'd gone and died on you. I mean, you didn't know what you were saying." "Yes, I did," Jim insisted. "I knew." 

"You-" Blair swallowed. "-you meant it? You said it in front of everyone?" 

"Yes and yes. I love you, Blair. I've loved you forever, but I kept putting off telling you." Jim paused. "Do you...I mean, how does that make you feel?"   
Blair laughed. " 'How does that make you feel?' You sound like me! I feel, oh man, dazed and confused, but mostly, oh wow, majorly in love!" 

Jim gulped. "Don't just say that. Be sure." 

"I am sure," Blair said firmly. "Have been sure for, oh, three years now." He gripped Jim's hand and smiled up at him. "There's so much I love about you, Jim: your strength, your courage, your loyalty. You're always there for me, never let me down, and I think that's a pretty good reason to fall in love with someone." 

Jim swallowed hard. *But I did let you down,Chief* he thought sickly. *I wasn't there for you when that woman got you. Where was I then? Where was my strength, courage, and loyalty when my partner was drowning?* 

"Blair, I-" Jim began, but Blair started coughing. 

"Damn! My throat's so dry. Can I have some water, please?" Blair asked, rubbing at his neck. 

Jim poured him a glass and helped him drink. "Better?" 

Blair nodded. "Yeah. Whew!" He scooted off Jim's lap and onto the bed. "I feel like I was run over by a truck This Alex chick must've really done a number on me." He grinned and squeezed Jim's hand. "Good thing you were there to stop her, or your guppy might've gone to that great aquarium in the sky." 

Jim stared wordlessly down at the love and hero-worship shining out of Blair's face and clenched his jaw against the guilt and pain inside him. *I didn't save you!* he wanted to scream. *I left you alone, I let you die, you just don't remember!* He wanted to unburden himself, to purge the crushing remorse, but he couldn't bear to see the contentment in Blair's eyes turn to contempt. 

He leaned down and kissed his Guide's forehead. "We'll talk later, Chief. Sleep now." 

Jim sat back and listened as Blair's breathing slowed in sleep, leaving him to his self-recrimination and the guilt of hiding the truth from his Guide. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

The next evening, Blair left the hospital AMA, over the protests of the doctor and nursing staff. "I know my body better than you do," he said stubbornly. "And I would know if there was reason to keep me hostage here." 

Jim spent the afternoon in a frantic effort to move their things back upstairs from storage. He knew he'd have to tell Blair about the events of the past few days eventually, but he wasn't ready just yet. He tried to tell himself that it was because Blair was still recovering, that he didn't want Blair to see the loft empty and unwelcoming, but deep inside he knew better. Jim Ellison had never been good at lying to himself. 

Blair was showered and ready when Jim picked him up that evening. "Take me home," Blair demanded. "And I don't suppose I could play on your sympathy enough to get you to buy me some Italian food on the way?" He grinned impishly. "They gave me meatloaf and lime jello for lunch." 

Jim smiled back. "I guess that can be arranged." 

"Eggplant parmesan?" Blair asked hopefully. 

"Sure, if rabbit food and tomato sauce is your idea of dinner," Jim teased. "Now me, I think I'll have a double helping of sausage lasagna with extra mozzerella. Maybe some breadsticks with garlic butter." 

Blair looked up at the nurse who'd come in with a wheelchair. "Prepare the cardiac unit," he advised, jerking his thumb at Jim. "I have a feeling you'll be seeing him again." He peered closely at the laughing woman. "Hey, did you know that the necklace you're wearing is the love symbol of a New Guinean tribe?" 

Charmed, the nurse shook her head and was rewarded with a lecture on that particular tribe, its mating customs, and its sad descent into the modern world. By the time they'd reached the truck, the nurse was hooked and had promised to take Blair's intro class next semester. Jim just listened to his partner's never-ending fount of knowledge with an affectionate smile, grateful that Blair could still talk and think, knowing he'd never take that babble for granted again. 

"You know, Chief," he said, pulling out of the lot, "if I didn't know better, I'd say you were flirting." He reached over and gave Blair's knee a playful squeeze. "I thought we agreed last night that you're off the market." 

Blair smirked. "I don't remember deciding anything of the kind." 

"Really?" Jim asked. "Well, how 'bout we decide right now?" He kept his tone light, but his heart was beating fast. What if Blair's declaration last night had come from weakness and fear? What if Blair wasn't ready for a committment? 

"You want me to pledge myself to you here, in an old, beat-up truck?" 

"Classic truck," Jim corrected. 

"Old, beat-up truck," Blair repeated. "Let's wait for a more romantic setting, you know, somewhere that doesn't smell like old Wonderburgers and where my feet don't stick to the floor." 

Jim wasn't sure if Blair was sincere or trying to get out of the committment, so he kept joking. "You're getting picky about your environment? Blair 'Clean it when it starts to grow fur' Sandburg? If you insist." 

They stopped at Blair's favorite Italian restaurant for orders to go. Jim wrapped his arm around Blair's waist protectively and helped him up the stairs. "You know, "Blair said bemused, "I'm pretty much okay. You don't have to treat me like someone's great-grandma." 

Jim squeezed gently. "One more remark like that and no prune puree for a month." He opened the door, ushered Blair inside, and eased him onto the couch. The anthropologist's mouth may have been in perfect shape, but Jim saw the pale complexion and heard the breathy quality in his voice that signalled fatigue. 

Jim dished up the food and served Blair on the couch before sitting beside him. They ate in companionable silence until Blair wiped his mouth and stood up. "Look, Jim, I know we have a lot to talk about, but I'm wiped, man. Can we save it til tomorrow?" 

Jim was troubled. Blair was usually the one who wanted to talk things to death , but he was avoiding this. He was terribly afraid now that Blair had had a change of heart and needed the time to come up with a gentle way to let Jim down. For once, Jim wanted nothing more than to sit down and hash it out, but nothing would come of forcing the issue, so he nodded reluctantly. "It'll keep." 

Blair finished washing for bed and headed to his room without another word. Heartsick, Jim took his own turn in the bathroom. Rejection was not something Jim was used to, but he supposed it wouldn't matter how much rehearsal he'd had; Blair's rejection hurt more than anything else ever could. 

*Does he find me unattractive, or does his subconscious remember what I did to him?* Jim wondered. Ultimately it didn't matter. Blair would never belong to Jim, and the reason didn't matter. He rinsed his mouth and switched off the bathroom light. 

Blair was standing at the foot of the stairs in his sweats, hand laying tentatively on the bannister. "I thought tonight I could ..." he gestured upstairs hesitantly. "I mean, if you still want to?" he asked with uncharacteristic shyness. 

It took Jim several seconds to process what Blair was asking, but it finally cleared the circuits. Blair was standing there asking, wanting, to sleep with him. Jim hadn't been rejected; Blair was taking a step toward a new relationship. _Their_ new relationship. 

Jim smiled softly. "I'd like that." 

Blair answered the smile with one of his own, a brilliant, loving expression, more touching for its tiredness. He reached out and took Jim's hand. "Gotta warn you," he said as he led Jim to bed, "I'm not up for anything strenuous yet." 

Jim stretched out on his back and held out his arms. "Just cuddling tonight," he promised as Blair climbed into his embrace and snuggled up to his warmth. "We'll see about the other stuff later." 

Blair made a sleepy noise."So glad we're finally together," he mumbled. "Love you, Blessed Protector." The rest was lost in sighs and deep breaths as Blair fell asleep. 

Jim lay awake, conscience-stricken. Blessed Protector. He'd given up the right to that honor when he'd sent Blair away to be murdered; worse, had told Blair he no longer trusted him. 

...trusted you with his life...left him to die all alone...sleeping on the floor of his office ...horrible, lonely way to die... 

Alex's words echoed in Jim's head, running in a continuous loop, torturing him with their truth. Jim looked down at the man sleeping peacefully in his arms and knew he had no right to be holding Blair. He'd taken advantage of Blair's amnesia, just as despicable an act as if he'd tricked Blair into bed. In a way, Jim knew he had. 

He fell asleep trying to reconcile the beautiful feeling of Blair in his arms with the truth he knew he'd have to tell. 

End Part 3 

Jim woke to the sound of moaning and the feel of something wet on his chest. Alarmed, he looked down to see Blair still cuddled against him, making distressed noises and shaking his head rapidly. 

"Chief?" Jim shook his Guide gently. "Wake up now. It's okay. Wake up." 

Blair's eyes flew open and he gasped softly. "Don't make me leave, Jim," he pleaded. Confused, he blinked several times to wake himself fully. He looked up at Jim and the Sentinel could see Blair's wet eyes and tear-streaked face. 

Jim leaned down and kissed Blair's forehead. "It's okay now, Blair." 

Blair wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. "Oh, man," he said shakily. "I had this really awful dream, worse than the drowning one. I dreamed I came home and you had all my stuff packed away. You told me you wanted me out by the time you got back and just walked away." He took an unsteady breath and stifled a sob. "You hated me and I didn't even know why. I was scared and lost and hurt, and I couldn't make it right." He looked to Jim for comfort, but Jim was frozen, expressionless. 

Taking Jim's silence for offense, Blair hurried on. "Hey, I'm sorry. I know you wouldn't do that to me. I don't know where it came from." He tried to snuggle closer, but Jim pushed him away. "Jim?" he questioned. 

"I-" Jim opened his mouth to reassure Blair, but the lie wouldn't come. He owed Blair the truth, no matter what the consequences. He couldn't start their relationship under false pretenses, so he would lay his heart on the line and hope Blair's kind heart would forgive him. If not, Jim would have to live with his own stupidity and selfishness for the rest of his life. One way or another, Blair deserved more than lies. 

"It wasn't a dream," he said quietly, and began the story of the female Sentinel, leaving nothing out. "I kicked you out," he admitted after awhile. "Packed up your stuff and told you to be out by the time I got back." 

Blair, who had been listening silently, spoke up. "Why?" 

Jim shook his head miserably. "I don't know," he admitted. "I can't remember having any real motives, just-" he gestured helplessly. "I try to think about what was driving me, and I can't. It's just confusion." 

"And then?" Blair asked neutrally. 

Jim took a deep breath. "Then you came to see me at the station, tried to get me to talk about it, but I-" he scrubbed his face with his hands "-oh shit, Chief, this is the most painful part. I told you I didn't trust you anymore. Those were the last words you heard before you...before she took you away." Jim fought for control. "I'll carry that with me for the rest of my life." 

Blair took this in silence. "Why didn't you tell me this before?" he asked finally. 

"You were so grateful, so loving. I didn't want you to know what an asshole I really am," Jim sighed. "Do you hate me?" 

Blair shook his head. "No, Jim," he said softly. "I just don't know why you couldn't talk to me about what you were feeling- about me, about Alex, about your visions. Jim, I'm your Guide. Don't you know there's nothing you can't tell me?" 

"I do now," Jim said. "Can we get past this?" 

Instead of answering, Blair asked a question of his own. "Do you trust me?" 

"Yes," Jim answered without hesitation. 

"Completely?" 

"With everything." 

"And do you love me?" 

Jim nodded. "Oh God, yes." 

Blair smiled. "Then we can make this work" He touched Jim's lips with his own. 

Jim lost himself in the taste of Blair for a moment before pulling away. "I have to tell you something else: I killed Alex. I had the chance to arrest her and I killed her instead. There's no prison that could hold someone with her abilities, and she wouldn't have stopped until you were dead, so I killed her. Can you live with that?" 

Blair regarded his partner with awe. "You killed one of your own kind for me?" he asked. 

Jim frowned. "She wasn't one of my kind, Blair." 

"But she was a Sentinel," Blair persisted, "someone who shared your abilities, someone who knew what you go through every day. Didn't you wonder what it would be like to have a mate like that?" 

"I already have someone like that," Jim said quietly and touched Blair's cheek. "I guess it would be nice to meet another like me, but just because we share...whatever this is...doesn't mean there was any attraction there. She was twisted and evil. She took this gift we have and perverted it.When I saw you lying on the ground, so cold, not breathing-" Jim pressed his lips together. "When I saw what she did to you, I knew she was dead, one way or another. No one will ever get away with hurting you, Blair." 

Blair reached up to stroke Jim's hair. "I know," he said simply. "I guess I won't completely understand what happened until I get my memory back, but I know I love you and that I don't blame you for anything." 

"Blair, I'm sorry," Jim whispered. "I was so fucking stupid!" 

"Enough," Blair chided softly. He lay back on the bed and pulled Jim's head against his shoulder. "Let's let go of the past and look at all that's ahead of us now, okay?" 

Jim buried his face in Blair's shoulder and inhaled the sweet scent of his Guide's curls. "Love you, Blair." 

Blair petted his back gently. "Love you, too, Jim." 

Sentinel and Guide fell asleep wrapped around each other, their bond unbroken. 

The End 


End file.
